Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
"I can see her on the security feed!" Ilsa's eyes were practically glued to the monitor. She still couldn't believe they had trusted her with such a crucial part of the plan. Oh good Lord, if she messed this up…
"Okay Ilsa, one more time…" Winston's voice via earpiece. "Just keep cool, if you're overly excited she'll sense something is off and most likely bolt. Be yourself, an employer interviewing a potential employee. Ask her a couple of questions, offer her a cup of coffee, put her at ease. Once she's relaxed and settled, go deeper, turn the conversation towards her youth, her family… At that point Chance will make his entrance, he'll introduce himself, let's see how things go from there…"
"If they don't go well, Ames and I are blocking the entrances upstairs and downstairs…", Guerrero chimed in.
"Remember, we just want to talk to her – no knock outs, no tasering and NO drugs in the coffee." Chance's voice was very firm.
"Yeah, why go the easy way…", Guerrero grumbled.
Chance didn't reply. He was still poring over Juliet's autopsy report. Back then he hadn't wanted Guerrero to get it for him, too painful. Now he could kick himself for that decision. It clearly stated that Juliet had given birth a very short time prior to her death, two or three days maximum. The police had searched for the baby quite intensely but had come up with nothing. If he had read that twelve years ago…
Damn it.
And there was also the way Juliet had died, bleeding to death from a horrible chest wound… Guerrero had removed the morgue shots before handing him the file, but his mind was imaginative enough to create pictures from the information in the text.
… … …
It sounded like a very lucrative job – writing instructions for the Marshall Pucci Foundation, instructions that people could actually understand.
The Foundation had recently acquired new equipment needed for refugee field hospitals, the manuals were a catastrophe, they needed someone with experience in intercultural sensitive writing.
Had she checked the part with the newly acquired equipment?
Double-checked.
Nevertheless… all jobs that required her physical presence in contrast to jobs that came in via internet and could be carried out via internet made her nervous.
Ilsa Pucci, chairwoman of the Marshall Pucci Foundation, had insisted on talking to her in person. It was a big job with far reaching consequences, should something go wrong, and this Pucci woman was known for being thorough when picking employees. Her request was in accordance with everything she had heard about her.
God knew they could do with the money. Ash was stashed away safely. She had a history of being paranoid.
But still… her gut feeling told her to be careful and her gut feeling had saved them more than once.
She was almost at the door of the non-descript office building where the Marshall Pucci Foundation kept a small branch office. Up on the seventh floor Ilsa Pucci was waiting for her.
On the seventh floor. The mere idea made her feel trapped.
Philippa decided to trust her gut feeling and turned away from the door, carefully avoiding the range of the security cam right above the entrance.
Well, she didn't know about the second cam Guerrero had installed the night before…
… … …
"I think she smelt the rat, Chance."
Chance took a deep breath. "Ilsa, stay where you are. I'll head north. Winston, can you hack into the traffic cams? Ames, I need you to cover the western part. Guerrero, don't scare her."
"She's the only one who knows where the boy is. We don't want her to end up underneath a street car or something", Winston added, already connecting the van's monitors with the city's traffic video feed.
"Then you better stay hidden", Guerrero replied. Judging from the sound of it, he was running down a flight of stairs.
"Wiseass."
… … …
Casually checking the reflections in the shop and car windows, Philippa made her way down the street. Her car was parked in the other direction, but she didn't want to lead eventual pursuers there. With the traffic cams installed everywhere it was possible to track her back to her hotel. Ash wasn't there, of course, but the further away from any hideout of hers she shook off her pursuers, the better.
If there were any, that is…
She casually snarfed a baseball cap from a stall. Rule number one when being on the run: Change your appearance and blend in. One of the reasons she always wore multiple layers of clothes...
A group of tourists came walking towards her. With an elegant turn she joined them, disposing of her blue blazer in a trash can, tying up her hair in a pony tail and putting on the cap.
"Looks like she read a Robert Ludlum novel or two…" Winston had lost her for a moment, but working with Chance and Guerrero had taught him a lot. After a brief moment of panic he was onto her again. "She's heading your way, Ames. The group of tourists."
Philippa, however, had no intention of sticking around the tourists long enough for someone starting to ask questions. She was already scouting the street for her Holy Man getaway.
Stupid name, yes. But she had developed this form of escape after watching the Eddie Murphy movie. It was quite risky and she didn't use it often – if anything happened to her, Ash would be alone – but it was effective.
There it was, a bus. Going at a rather high speed. Exactly what she had been looking for.
Just as smoothly as she had weaved into the group, she broke away from it, stepped onto the road and, suddenly switching into actual bolting mode, dashed across it, making cars come to a screeching halt and barely escaping the bus' bumper.
Not wasting a second on looking back at the havoc she'd just wreaked, Philippa dived into a narrow side street. She did feel sorry for anyone who got hurt because of her stunt, especially if she was just being paranoid and no one was after her after all, but she definitely couldn't afford taking any chances.
Ah, damn, a van was blocking the far end of the street. Great, now she had to...
"Nicely done", a voice said behind her back.
The mere fact that someone was talking to her like that made her go for her gun. When she turned around and laid eyes on the middle-aged, blond man that was blocking the way back to the main street, however, she released the safety catch and aimed straight at his chest.
Chance, his weapon undrawn, raised his hands: "Whoa. Look, I know this is a scary situation, a stranger following you and all, but I just want to talk to you…"
"I know who you are", Philippa hissed. She had always suspected it, but actually seeing the living proof of her assumption was outright shocking. Ash was the spitting image of his father.
Chance could have disarmed her. Judging from her stance she knew what she was doing, but he could have disarmed her. He just figured it wouldn't be the most diplomatic beginning to the conversation he was hoping for. She was the only one who knew where Ash was. "Well, in that case maybe you'd like to…"
She cut him off again: "JuJu told me exactly two things before she died. A – Don't trust anyone and B – The boy's father is an assassin."
At that very moment a hard shove against her back knocked her into the dirt, sending her gun skidding away. Before she knew it, someone was jerking her arms backwards and violently pinning her down with his knee.
"Guerrero…", Chance groaned.
"What, dude? She's not unconscious!"